Mentor Mayhem
by UnicornDevil
Summary: *DEDICATED TO CloveandtheMockingjay FOR BEING THE 210TH REVIEWER OF 'MISSING SOMETHING!* It's the start of the 74th Hunger Games and Gloss, along with his sister, are watching their tributes fight when two unwanted visitors visit. What will happen to this brother-sister duo?


**Hello! This one-shot is dedicated to my 210****th**** reviewer to "Missing Something" CloveandtheMockingjay! They requested that I used Gloss, Cashmere, Enobaria, and Brutus as the characters. Since I've never written about these characters before, please give me your feedback! This one-shot is taking place in Peeta and Katniss' first Hunger Games in the "Mentoring Rooms" where all the mentors watch the games going on and where they can send in the sponsor gifts. Now, here is "Mentor Mayhem".**

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In the training room, there is a door. None of the tributes were allowed in during training sessions, although close to none seemed to even notice the door. Want to know why they can't go in there? It's because that is the mentoring room.

Yes, the mentoring room where, during the games, the mentors watch in anxiety as they watch each others' tributes kill one another. The main goal of the mentors is to return a tribute home, although only one has the chance of that. But some mentors don't seem to care about their tributes as much as they should.

Each district has its own private mentoring room, which branches off from the main mentoring room. The most popular districts, like two or four, get the better rooms. Those usually include soft, pillow-like beds and showers. The lower districts, like eleven and twelve, usually have hard beds, sometimes without mattresses at all. You'd think that they'd have better living facilities down there, since it is the Capitol. The gamemakers wait for the mentors to go upstairs to their district floor, where they can sleep in peace. That is when they set the trap for that district's tributes. The people of the Capitol want the higher districts' tributes to win, so it's an easy way to get rid of the weaker ones. Just get rid of their mentor for a few hours and they could die. It's as easy as that.

Gloss and Cashmere sat in the luxurious chairs of their private mentoring room. The games had started that morning and an hour or two had passed since the initial bloodbath. After the hovercrafts retrieve the dead bodies is when the mentors will usually return to their private rooms.

The brother and sister sat in the room, their brilliant green eyes staring at the television screen. The beauty between the two was remarkable; there was never a more gorgeous pair of siblings. They both realized that two, using their beauty to win over sponsors for their tributes. Although Gloss wasn't the most popular male victor, since Finnick Odair was at the very top, he was still high of on desirability. Cashmere was on the top of her list, although if her tribute this year one, she may be put down a rank. Their beauty helped them quite often, although it also hurt them in the same way, thanks to President Snow setting 'appointments' up for them.

The two siblings were engrossed in the games; they hardly noticed the door of their room squeak open. They didn't notice the two athletic figures walk in. You might have thought they were deaf, as they did not turn their attention away until the two figures lounged themselves down onto the siblings' couch.

"Aren't you going to welcome us in?" the man asked sarcastically. The two siblings finally turned to face their unwelcomed guests. A mixture of surprise, anger, and distaste contorted onto the siblings' faces, turning their beauty into a distorted expression. The sight of Enobaria and Brutus will do that to some people.

"Why should we?" Cashmere said frankly. Although she was usually a very polite person, she was impatient at the moment. With the games having just started, she needed to pay attention to her tribute completely in order to bring her back home.

"Well, us career members should stick together!" Enobaria proclaimed. "Since our tributes our together we might as well be, too!"  
Something about Enobaria's tone threw the two off. They've known Enobaria for years, ever since they won their games, yet she was never this cheery or friendly. She was a very brutal person and was proud of that fact, her cosmetically altered teeth proof enough.

"Why aren't you with four then?" Gloss asked politely, his eyes darting to the television screen. He wasn't particularly fond of this pair either, but he was trying to make up for his sister's behavior.

"They're a bunch of weaklings this year. The boy already died in the bloodbath. In fact, I think Cato got him. It's probably better that we don't go over there, or else the old lady and pretty boy will run their gums off about our tributes 'betraying the alliance'." Brutus rolled his eyes. "There isn't even that much competition this year, though. It's probably just the careers and that girl from twelve. Heck, we can even include that brute from eleven."

"Even your tributes aren't exactly up to par this year," Enobaria noted with a smirk.

For some reason, this upset the siblings more than it should have. It seemed to be just an offhand comment from the fierce woman, yet the two took it more to heart. She basically said that their district has gone soft! That their tributes aren't 'up to par'?! That was absurd! Sure, their tributes this year didn't look like they were on steroids, like that Cato kid did, but they were still strong and agile. They still had a running chance.

"What do you mean by that?" Gloss asked, trying to control his anger.

"Well, they aren't the smartest, that's for sure. Did you see them in the bloodbath? What kind of idiot tries to grab a spear before Cato? And that girl of yours totally missed that eleven girl with her knife."

"Why couldn't Marvel grab the spears first?" Cashmere chirped. "And that was just an unlucky shot for Glimmer! That girl is very small and runs very fast; I'm sure everyone would miss her!"

"Clove would have gotten her," Enobaria mumbled, barely noticeable to the others.

"You mean your little tribute? How old is she anyway? She looks to be no older than fourteen! That's pretty disappointing if you ask me! At least our tributes are old enough to actually have a chance!" Gloss argued.

"She's fifteen and has a better chance than either of your tributes will ever have! She never misses a target!"

"Oh really? If I do recall correctly she didn't kill that District 12 girl in the bloodbath!"

"That was just luck for that girl! She moved her backpack in the way!" Enobaria shouted, getting into Cashmere's face. "At least my tribute is more than just a pretty face. That must be why you like her so much; she must remind you of yourself. I mean, the only reason you won is because all the sponsors sent money for you." Enobaria put her lips to the other girl's ear and whispered, "They wanted to have those appointments with you. The gamemakers only let you win so that the Capitol people could have a piece of you."

Cashmere jerked back. Her voice was filled with hatred as she shouted, "Y-you take that back!"

"Why should I? I'm only telling the truth."

Within a blink of an eye, Cashmere had stood up and practically tackled the older woman to the ground. The room was filled with screeches and shouts as the two fought each other on the ground. The two men stared at them, unsure of what to do.

"Hey! Break it up!" Gloss said, trying to pull his sister away.

"Let it be," Brutus said. "It'll probably be the only entertaining thing for the rest of the day."

"Why would I? I don't want Cashmere to get hurt…" With that, Gloss attempted to separate the two, but to no avail.

"So? She's a career, she can handle it."

"She's my sister! I don't want her to get hurt anymore than she has!" Gloss shouted.

"Aw, you have a soft side for your wittle sister!" Brutus mocked as if he were talking to a baby.

"Oh, shut up!"

Brutus's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? And who's going to make me?"

"Me."

Brutus laughed a dark chuckle that sent shivers down Gloss's spine. "I'd like to see you try."

With that, Gloss threw himself at the man who was twice his age, but the elder was too strong. He pushed Gloss down to the ground and began to punch him, leaving no mercy.

Soon, all four were engulfed in a fight together. The got their feet and fought, screaming unintelligible words at each other, hoping to hurt each other both physically and emotionally.

This went on for many minutes, until a noise was heard from the doorway, one that sounded like someone clearing their throat, although the sound of it sent the hairs on everyone's arms to stand on end. They all stopped their fighting abruptly and looked at the doorway. There, standing in his normal suit, was President Snow.

"M-mr. President, sir. I-I can explain. We-"

"That is quite enough, Ms. Golding. Now, please get away from Mr. and Ms. Starglass, or else the future of yourself, and your tributes, may be at risk."

"Yes, Mr. President," Enobaria muttered, standing up, dusting off her ripped clothing. Brutus followed suit and joined her on the floor. The two siblings remained on the floor, with Gloss inspecting Cashmere's bruised eye.

"Get out." The two victors scurried out of the room, leaving the other two with the president. "Stand up, you two."

Gloss stood up and pulled up his sister. The president waved the two over, who both reluctantly did so.

President Snow raised his hand and prodded Cashmere's swollen eye, which she flinched at the touch of. He muttered something under his breath and then sighed.

"I'll have to cancel your appointments tonight so that your eye can get fixed," he said. He turned to the male sibling. There were some scratches on his face and his arms were already turning dark purple. "The same will go with you, too. I'll have someone fetch you soon."

With that, President Snow turned and left the room, leaving the two siblings to gape at the events that have just taken place.

"Maybe fighting with District 2 wasn't such a bad idea," Gloss said, a smile upon his face.

Cashmere snorted and cheerfully said, "You've got that right!"


End file.
